Cold Feet
by haldolhs
Summary: Ciel seeks resolution of a nagging and unaddressed issue on the night before his wedding day.
1. Chapter 1

Ciel wasn't sure whose bright idea this impromptu, after-dinner party had been, but the eruptions of raucous laughter did nothing to soothe his jangled nerves. He heard the traded jokes, the humorous anecdotes, but they didn't register, and his head ached beneath the task of forcing mirth on cue. Although barely past twilight and still too early for bed, Ciel rose from his chair at the dining room table and stated his intent to retire for the evening.

"Bullocks! Come on, Yer Lordship!" Bard protested around the cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. He slapped the table and sent ash peppering down over his white shirt. "It's tradition, this! One last night with the blokes. Hell, I ain't even broke out the whiskey, yet!"

Ciel glanced around the table where Bard, Soma, Finnian, and Snake all looked up at him with hopeful expressions and forced an apologetic smile. "It's Lizzie's big day tomorrow, and she's not apt to be forgiving should she find me red-eyed and reeking of stale liquor. Save the whiskey for after the wedding, Bard. I'll need it."

"I'll be carrying a flask, Master Ciel," Bard winked, and then chuckled. "It's not too late to run, you know. You're a free man, right up until you say 'I do.'"

"Bardroy!" Finny squeaked.

"Don't listen to him, Ciel," Soma commanded with an air of superiority. "Wives are no trouble. I have three, and they've not altered my life in any way."

"That's 'cause they're all in India," Bard scoffed. "Lady Elizabeth will be livin' at the manor. A pint says she'll have the whole place turned out in pink by the end of the first week. Any takers?"

"Goodnight," Ciel groaned, turning away from the table.

"Should I fetch Sebastian?" Finny asked, jumping to his feet. "I think he's with Tanaka and Agni in the kitchen."

At the mention of his butler's name, Ciel's stomach flipped, his lungs constricted and the feeling of unease he'd been carrying since Aunt Francis set a wedding date intensified. "No. Tell him I've seen to myself when he comes to inquire." He flashed the table another smile he didn't feel, and said, "Big day tomorrow. Don't stay up too late, any of you. That's an order."

He waved at their calls of "goodnight," and Soma's "You're not the boss of me," as he exited the dining room.

The tightness in his chest loosened some as he climbed the stairs and made his way down the quiet hallway to his room, but the air still felt too thick, the walls too close. He yearned for the wide passageways and general vastness of the manor, where it could conceivably take days for anyone other than Sebastian to find him should he decide he wanted to hide. The townhouse was too small, the quarters too close, especially with the whole of his household along with Soma and Agni in residence.

It could be worse, he supposed. Lizzie had wanted him to stay at the Midford estate, where their wedding would be held tomorrow afternoon. If it hadn't been for Sebastian's reminder that it was deemed bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding and therefore safer for Ciel to spend the night elsewhere, he would no doubt be sitting in the Midford's front parlor at this very moment, holding Lizzie's hand and listening to Aunt Francis lecture him once more on her expectations for his perfect appearance and etiquette while his cousin Edward glared daggers at him from across the room.

Yes, it could be much worse. Even so, he needed more space. Room to breathe. Privacy to think and rationalize his quiet panic before it became an audible wheeze rattling against the walls. He needed . . .

 _"You're suffering from a simple case of 'cold feet,' Young Master. It's a perfectly normal sense of anxiety experienced by both men and women alike as their nuptials quickly approach, I assure you . . .It happens even to those who consider themselves deeply in love."_

 _"I know nothing of being 'in love,' Sebastian."_

 _"Don't you?"_

Ciel shivered as he stripped off his waistcoat and shimmied out of his trousers, the recalled conversation prickling his skin. The exchange had occurred during elevenses exactly a week ago, right after he'd told Sebastian he intended to call the wedding off. Even now, he heard the smirk underlying his butler's cryptic reply to his confession of ignorance.

 _"'Don't you?' What in the Hell is_ that _supposed to mean, Sebastian?"_

 _"Sometimes, not too often, but occasionally, I believe you underestimate the depths of your knowledge, My Lord . . . specifically that pertaining to your emotions. In any case, it matters not if you feel any intensity of passion for Lady Elizabeth. She is of your blood and well aware of the darkness which cloaks your title and responsibilities to the throne. Even if you were madly in love with another, Lady Elizabeth is the only woman who has been groomed to function capably as your wife."_

 _"I wonder how capable she'd feel if she knew my 'perfect' butler, whom she so enjoys gushing over, is actually a demon who intends to devour my soul?"_

 _"I doubt the knowledge would give her much pause, My Lord. She is as headstrong as her cousin. If you do decide to tell her, please be sure she understands our contract was mutually desired as it will be mutually beneficial, lest I plummet from her high regard. Now, drink your tea before it gets cold."_

"Cheeky bastard," Ciel muttered, slipping into his nightshirt. "I should have ordered him to muck out the stables with a spoon."

He pulled back the bed linens and slid in beneath them, heat skittering down his spine as he remembered how Sebastian had stripped off his white gloves, smiling down at Ciel's glare. His cheeks flushed recalling the stroke of Sebastian's bare fingers through his hair as his butler stepped around behind Ciel's chair, where he then employed both hands to gently rub Ciel's temples.

Before Ciel could admonish such uninvited familiarity, he'd heard himself moan in appreciation. Sebastian had crooned his approval and massaged his way around Ciel's crown to the nape of his neck, before he'd gently drawn Ciel's head back to rest against his chest and dropped those talented hands to either of Ciel's shoulders.

 _"That's it, Young Master. Relax. Release your tension. What have you to fear, after all, when you've already collared the devil?"_

Ciel had chuckled, and looked up to lock his gaze with the self-satisfied cherrywood eyes of his demon. " _If I marry Lizzie, you'll find yourself playing masseuse much more often, I hope you realize."_

 _"Hmm._ After _you marry Elizabeth, I'll be sure to work your daily massage into my schedule."_

 _"If you're trying to coerce me into believing this marriage is a good idea, you're going to have to do better than that, Sebastian."_

 _"I do believe you're attempting to rid yourself of me, Lord Phantomhive. I very nearly choked while swallowing back an entire host of much more enticing suggestions, just now."_

 _"Lecher. Mmm. Harder, Sebastian."_

 _"Um . . ._ Yes _, My Lord. Your attempts to murder me, aside, I should think you would be quite pleased to marry Elizabeth, as it plays directly into your ultimate desire for vengeance."_

 _"How badly_ did _you strangle on your witless perversions? Do demon brains require oxygen? Because I fear yours is addled."_

 _"In all seriousness, Young Master, your marriage will deal quite a stinging blow to the face of your enemies. It punctuates how you've persevered and flourished despite their best attempts to destroy you, and states your intention to extend the Phantomhive line to the next generation—a line they'd strived to annihilate. Perhaps it's not quite as satisfying as seeing them encaged, tortured and starved, but it is a form of vengeance all the same, wouldn't you agree?"_

Pulling the covers up to his chin, Ciel snuggled down beneath them. The lamp atop his bedside table still burned and he turned his face toward the light, craving it as he considered Sebastian's words for the hundredth time since he'd spoken them. He saw Sebastian's logic clearly, hence the reason he was curled up in bed like a terrified toddler trying to steel his nerves for a wedding he didn't cancel, but he wasn't at all certain he _agreed._ If it was indeed a form of vengeance he'd deliver tomorrow, why should he feel so very much like he was being shoved back into a cage?

 _"It's not too late to run, you know."_

Ciel groaned and rolled onto his back. Bard's flippant words sent a spike of adrenaline through his limbs. He itched to leap from the bed and run as far and fast as his tightened lungs would allow. But it was much too late to bolt, wasn't it? Had he broken off the engagement a week ago, that would have been bad enough, but to cancel the wedding now . . .

He couldn't run. Lizzie would be devastated, and he simply couldn't leave her at the altar even if he would, ultimately, be acting in her best interests. Despite her tendencies for self-indulgence (she probably _would_ redecorate the manor to suit her tastes, regardless of his preferences, and no doubt he'd be forced to host a pretentious and inconvenient ball at least once a season), Lizzie possessed a purity of heart and an intensity of devotion to rival no other. If anyone deserved to live a life of light and love, it was Elizabeth Midford. She certainly deserved better than to be chained to the earl of corruption and shadow, he who was damned of soul and possessed of demons both figurative and one quite literal.

Yes, marrying Lizzie tomorrow would be the epitome of selfishness, but, if he was honest with himself, selfishness was merely an excuse that played not at all into the real reasons for his trepidation. In truth, he wasn't fazed by the idea of Lizzie claiming Phantomhive Manor and making it her own. Also, Sebastian was right . . .Lizzie was strong, capable and intelligent, and the only woman upon which he could ever hope to bestow the title of Lady Phantomhive. Add in his fondness for his cousin and his genuine enjoyment of her company, and he knew he should consider himself most fortunate she'd agreed to be his wife.

Even so . . .

Beyond his closed door he heard Finny clomp up the stairs as he called out enthusiastic goodnights. Somewhere below, Soma bellowed for Agni, which meant he, too, intended to retire. It felt like he left the dining room only minutes ago, but the night was fleeing from him. At this rate, he'd see dawn before his harried mind processed the passage of an hour.

Ciel curled back onto his side and tilted his face away from the lamplight he couldn't quite bring himself to extinguish. He didn't want to think about the real reason for his dread of tomorrow, anymore. In all actuality, Lizzie's constant presence in the manor might prove to be a most beneficial distraction from sordid ideas best left unconsidered and unpursued, lest he damn himself even more so than he already had.

"Just go to sleep," he muttered, closing his eyes. "Just shut up and go to sleep, already."

 _". . .it matters not if you feel any intensity of passion for Lady Elizabeth . . ."_

Cursing beneath his breath, Ciel stretched onto his back, stared up at the ceiling, and resigned himself to delve into the crux of the matter—he knew he must, if he had any hope of finding sleep.

Although he loved her, Ciel felt no passion for Lizzie. That she was a beautiful, vibrant woman by any standard was inarguable, so far as Ciel was concerned, and as someone who appreciated beauty in all forms he quite enjoyed gazing upon her. Her skin was soft and smooth and pleasing to touch. Ever affectionate, she was forever offering her hand to hold or her lips to kiss, and he indulged her without suffering the least bit of unpleasantness. Her mouth always tasted faintly of vanilla and strawberries, which he found curious, but nice all the same.

Being with her was pleasant, but her touch didn't stir his blood, didn't send fingers of electric heat tingling over his skin. He wished to Hell, and often, he was ignorant of the knowledge that a simple touch could awaken all his nerves at once while setting his blood to pulse fast and hot. He wished he was blissfully unaware that sharing a casual glance, or hearing a few ordinary words murmured in just the right tone, or, sometimes, simply watching someone walk into the room could make him burn with desire.

He wished he didn't know, but he did. If he was ignorant, he had no doubt he'd be perfectly content with 'pleasant.' Instead, he was cursed to face his pleasant future with a sense of consummate dread and grief for the loss of something he'd never allowed himself to fully acknowledge, much less explore.

"Ridiculous, perverse flights of fancy," he sneered at himself with well-practiced disgust. "There is nothing to _explore."_

Normally, such self-chastisement sufficed to harden his resolve and restore calm logic to his rational mind, but now his words rang hollow and powerless, and Ciel swallowed hard against the panicked flutter of his heart in his throat.

"What in the Hell is wrong with me?" he rasped.

 _Nothing. Nothing I haven't had a handle on for years. I'm still in control. I'm fine. Tomorrow I'm going to marry Lizzie, and once it's said and done this madness will pass. A week from now, I'll have forgotten I'd even suffered from this lapse of sanity. Life will go on as it always has, with the addition of yet another role to play, and I shall play it convincingly, just has I have been. I'll just have to do so more regularly, is all. . ._

He closed his eyes and recalled the night of his eighteenth birthday. Lizzie had insisted on marking the milestone, of course, and a ball in his honor had been held at the Midford Estate. They had danced and refreshed themselves with champagne and brandy and Irish whiskey from the flask Bard had slipped within the inside breast pocket of Ciel's coat. Their stolen kisses deepened and lengthened as the night drew on, the last of which had left Lizzie flushed and breathless, her green eyes smoldering.

No sooner had Sebastian left after seeing him to bed that night, than he'd heard his guestroom door snick open. Lizzie padded barefoot to the side of his bed by the light of a single candle, which she set shakily on the bedside table before she pulled loose the tie on the neck of her nightdress. The garment slipped down over her shoulders and bared her lovely form as it puddled at her feet.

"Love me," she'd whispered, pulling back his bedclothes. She tugged at his nightshirt even as she pushed him back onto the mattress and climbed astride him. "It will be another two years before mother allows us to marry, and I simply cannot wait any longer."

Wits dulled by the late hour and too much alcohol, his protests had been weak and his rational arguments obliterated by his piqued physical interest. A beautiful, naked woman who loved him was begging him to make love to her, and the way her fingers trembled over his awakening cock felt very nice, indeed. And so he had taken her—that night, and several times more in the two and a half years since.

It was nice. Sex with Lizzie was always pleasant, right up until after he'd brought her to climax and was expected to achieve it himself. It wasn't that he couldn't, of course, but far too often he was forced to summon his completion from those fantasies he kept vaulted within the deepest recesses of his mind and heart—fantasies in which Lizzie was absent. Fantasies that forced him to bite down on his lower lip as he came, lest he cry out, exposing his depravity and summoning his butler in one humiliating, bare-assed show.

 _She'll never know. Neither of them will ever . . ._

A soft knock at the door snapped Ciel out of his thoughts, and his heart jumped at the sound of white-gloved knuckles gently rapping on wood so as not to wake a sleeping occupant, yet announcing presence and intent.

Somewhere in the back of his addled mind he knew Sebastian would check on him whether Finny delivered his message or not. He always did on those nights Ciel acted as his own valet for one reason or another. Sebastian would wait for a moment, listening for Ciel to bid him entrance, before he let himself into the room regardless.

Ciel couldn't see him, couldn't speak with Sebastian, couldn't look into those too clever cherrywood eyes which would surely flare to crimson the moment they met Ciel's and spied his current crisis of soul.

He only had a moment to calm his racing heart. A daunting task, but he managed to roll quietly onto his side and slow his respiration to a reasonable facsimile of sleep, closing his eyes just as the door opened.

The moment Sebastian strode into the room Ciel felt his presence. The seal of their covenant emblazoned upon his right iris tingled minutely, as did the air. He fought the urge to open his eyes, instead forcing himself to relax and reminding himself to breathe slowly and deeply.

If Sebastian knew he was feigning sleep, he didn't call Ciel's bluff. Ciel listened to his butler move swiftly about the room, closing the draperies and setting out toiletries Ciel might find necessary during the night, and then he heard Sebastian approach the bedside.

"Ten years, and he still leaves his clothes lay where they drop," Sebastian chided softly to himself. Ciel heard him sweep the discarded garments up from the floor. "Perhaps his wife can break him of such slovenly behavior. I've certainly had no success."

Biting back a small smile, Ciel listened to Sebastian deposit his dirty laundry in the basket beside his wardrobe, and then reminded himself to breathe as his butler approached the bedside once more.

"And he falls asleep with the lamp burning," Sebastian chuckled as the room plunged into darkness. "I know he has his reservations about this marriage, but tempting fate to set the house ablaze is rather extreme."

It was all he could do to not scowl at that remark, but even though he sensed the room was black as pitch, he knew Sebastian could still see perfectly well. Ciel would allow himself to make all the faces he wanted while muttering a few choice insults as soon as the bastard left.

 _Go away, Sebastian._

He listened closely for the turn of Sebastian's heel against the hardwood floor. Instead, the electricity in the air heightened and vibrated gently against his exposed skin as the mattress dipped at the side of the bed. The familiar spiced-autumn scent of Sebastian wafted over Ciel, cooling the burn in his lungs even as it heated his blood.

 _You're a demon from Hell. Why do you smell so damned good? You ought to smell like sulfur, not pumpkin pie. And why in the Hell are you sitting on my bed? Why tonight, of all nights?_

It wasn't the first time Sebastian perched on the side of his bed uninvited. Over the decade they'd shared, their relationship had evolved from one of suspicion and polite hostility to one of trust and camaraderie. Time and circumstance and constant close proximity had served to thaw Ciel and humanize his demon to the point casual familiarity was normal rather than taboo. They bantered, they conversed, they conspired, and sometimes an exchange which began while Sebastian turned down the bed linens would conclude with Ciel curled up beneath them, Sebastian sitting at his side.

Of course, Ciel had always been awake whenever Sebastian deigned to make himself comfortable. And so far as he could remember, Sebastian had never gently stroked the hair from Ciel's brow while sitting upon his bedside, as he was doing now.

"I'd hoped we might have a quiet moment alone before you fell asleep," Sebastian murmured. "Even in this relaxed state, I feel your distress, and it bothers me more than I care to admit. Certainly much more than it should. Sometimes, believe it or not, I forget what I am, Ciel. I'd sincerely hoped you might afford me an opportunity to smooth the tension from your brow."

Sebastian's voice melted over Ciel like warm caramel, rich and smooth and sweet and so damned tempting his mouth watered. He stifled a moan and kept his eyes closed, because if he 'woke up' now, he'd be lost, helpless to do anything other than taste what he so desperately desired.

"You're going to be fine," Sebastian whispered, leaning closer, his fingers stroking slowly through Ciel's hair. "You will be as fine a husband and father as you are a master and a nobleman. And I will be, as ever, at your side, protecting you and yours with all that I am, until the very end. You needn't fear for Elizabeth's safety, or for the safety of any children you sire . . . I swear so by my very soul."

Ciel's breath caught at the feel of warm, velvet lips pressing against his brow. "Sleep well, Young Master. I shall see you in the morning."

The weight lifted from his bed, Sebastian's scent with it, and before Ciel could remind himself to breathe he heard the snick of his door opening, followed almost instantaneously by the soft click of its closure.

Heart hammering, Ciel's frozen lungs unlocked and he gasped, drinking in long draughts of air as his mind raced and his fingers traced over the lingering heat of Sebastian's kiss.

Only one other time had Sebastian bestowed upon Ciel a kiss not representative of servitude, and on the exact same spot, no less. His heart pounded as his mind shoved the memory to the fore . . .

Two months after his eighteenth birthday, Her Majesty had unleashed Ciel on the cooling trail of a criminal ring. They were armed robbers of all mundane things, yet after several months of successful and bloody heists, Scotland Yard had made no headway toward their capture and the Queen had run out of patience.

After only a day on the case, Ciel had tracked their scent to an old warehouse district deep within the bowels of London. The buildings were dilapidated and abandoned, the area a dead eyesore, yet merchants keeping shop on the edge of the decay reported unusual comings and goings which increased in correlation with the nights the murderous thieves had struck.

Upon reporting his intentions to The Yard, Ciel had set out with Sebastian at his side and with Mey-Rin, Bard, and Finny in tow—all heavily armed. If his suspicions were correct, this wasn't merely a small crew of vicious thugs he aimed to incapacitate, but a rather large and organized conglomerate, and he would need the extra firepower as he had no intention of taxing Sebastian unduly. Demon though he was, he wasn't infallible. Twice already he'd nursed Sebastian back from the edge of annihilation, and he'd be damned should he ever allow him to suffer such grievous injuries again.

They'd arrived just after sunset and walked straight into the enemy's ready and waiting arms. Not only had he underestimated their number, Ciel knew as soon as the first shot rang out it had been a mistake to alert The Yard. He had just enough time to wonder if it was that bastard Randall himself in league with the miscreants before he found himself pressed up against a cinder-block wall, Sebastian's face an inch from his own, eyes blazing crimson.

"Stay," Sebastian had hissed. "Don't make me tell you twice."

"Need I remind you that _I_ am _your_ master?" Ciel muttered to the suddenly empty air in front of him, wincing at the tremor in his voice. Sebastian's complete lack of his usual decorum did more to strike home the severity of their situation than the continuous report of gunfire.

Perhaps, Ciel decided, it would be best to do as Sebastian so elegantly requested, just this once.

From behind the safety of the wall, he watched his servants engage a small army in battle. Mey-Rin, shed of her glasses, a pistol blazing in each hand, dropped bodies like rain while Finnian ignored his weapons in favor of crushing skulls with his bare hands. Bard took carefully aimed shots while calling out the coordinates of imminent threats, and Sebastian . . .

Sebastian danced. He spun like a dervish, the tails of his black coat trailing out behind him and floating like ribbons on the air, long legs kicking out to strike heads and chests while white-gloved hands darted to catch bullets mid-flight and redirect their course with deadly accuracy.

Sebastian was breathtaking, the very embodiment of power and fluid grace, and Ciel was so riveted by his dance he nearly ignored the flash of movement caught by the corner of his exposed eye. Yet some instinct tore his attention from his butler and directed it to the rooftop of the crumbling warehouse at his left, where a sniper took aim at Sebastian's head.

Ciel aimed his own pistol, confident he could incapacitate the sniper and alert his household to the rooftops at the same time without compromising the safety of his position, but then he caught more motion in his peripheral vision. He spun his head to see armed men flocking to the edges of the rooftops like crows, all taking aim at his butler.

Seeing only an image of Sebastian shredded beyond any hope of repair, Ciel had bolted out from behind the wall and into the fray, bellowing Sebastian's name as he charged toward him. From somewhere far away, he heard Bard yell, "rooftops! Duck and cover!" He heard Mey-rin curse and scream for Finny to run. He heard the air hum and buzz all around him, and felt something sting against his cheek as Sebastian froze mid-spin and stared at him with widening eyes.

And then the vision his mind had just showed him realized amid a cacophony of deafening screams and simultaneous gun blasts. Sebastian's butler's livery shredded before Ciel's eyes as Sebastian flew toward him, but instead of blood and viscera, a pair of expansive, black wings erupted from his body.

The sight of Sebastian morphing into what looked like an irate, avenging angel, eyes blazing with hellfire as black claws shredded through his white gloves and bullets ricocheted off his expanding ebony wings, staggered Ciel. His suddenly boneless legs tangled on themselves and he went sprawling toward the broken cobblestone.

Strong arms encircled his waist, pulling him out of his fall just before he hit the ground and pressing him against a hot, hard body in the same moment the world went black.

Before he could so much as blink or gasp for air, he was flipped around and he found himself staring into his demon's burning eyes. "What in the _Hell_ were you thinking? Were you trying to _protect_ me? Arrogant, mortal fool." Sebastian's tone was guttural, his words barked from a mouth filled with glistening fangs. "Are you hurt?"

"Uh . . ."

Sebastian's hands flew over him, tilting his head this way and that, smoothing over his neck and torso and limbs, searching for injuries while Ciel straddled his lap and stared at him with opened-mouthed awe. He was enclosed with his butler in a dome of iridescent black feathers which shimmered in the ethereal light emanating from Sebastian's smooth, alabaster skin.

 _Wings. Sebastian has wings . . ._

"A graze across your right cheek, and another across the back of your left calf. You have the luck of the devil." Sebastian grasped his face in one hand and ripped away his eye-patch with the other. Elliptical pupils bore into his, and Ciel felt hypnotized by the swirl of the violet seas boiling around them. "Don't you ever, _ever_ , do anything so idiotic ever again. I will have your soul when _I_ am satisfied the terms of our contract are complete, and not a moment before. Do you understand?"

In that moment, Ciel understood only that, rather than the hideous creature his mind had conjured from glimpses he'd caught upon their first meeting, Sebastian, shed of his human guise, was indescribably beautiful. Quite of its own accord, Ciel saw his hand rise to the high ridge of a white marble cheek and he marveled at the soft heat yielding beneath his fingers.

"Are you addled?" Sebastian growled, reaching up and snatching Ciel's hand away from his face. "Say something, Ciel."

"Angel . . ." Ciel breathed. "Bloody Hell, Sebastian . . ."

"I save his life and he insults me," Sebastian chuckled, and pressed his lips to the very center of Ciel's forehead. "Suggest something so heinous again, and I'll subject you to Bardroy's cooking for all of eternity."

Sebastian's lips had been black, Ciel remembered. Black lips, hot and softer than the finest silk, which bestowed a kiss so gentle it seared straight through to Ciel's soul. That simple kiss had caused him weeks of torment, Sebastian always on the forefront of his mind. He'd suffered a month's worth of sleepless nights during which he alternated between fighting the urge to summon Sebastian into his bed and imaging ways he might endanger himself sufficiently enough to look once more upon his fallen angel. Even Mey-Rin managed to recover her wits in a timelier manner, taking only four days to train her nose not to gush blood whenever in Sebastian's presence.

Now, a second kiss having reiterated the first, Ciel felt the rage of too many years' worth of pent-up desire boil through his blood, demanding he do something, _anything,_ to sate the all-consuming ache of longing which refused to be placated with the promise of a lifetime of _nice_ and _pleasant._

 _Are you really this pathetic? Are you really so utterly depraved? The bastard already owns your soul. Must you give him everything?_

Ciel flipped onto his back, his stare roving the darkness for some bright solution to his misery. He ran his fingers over the still tingling remnants of his butler's kiss and wondered if the center of his brow would be exactly where Sebastian placed his final kiss, the one with which he imagined the demon would extract his soul.

"I don't care," he whispered. "It belongs to him. I gave it willingly. Let him take it however he sees fit."

 _". . . it matters not if you feel any intensity of passion for Lady Elizabeth . . ."_

"And what of my passion for you?" Ciel muttered. "You know, don't you. Of course you do, you bastard. You know I'm completely smitten. I believe 'madly' is the term you used. How very astute. I'm mad as a Hatter."

 _He's manipulated you, crafted your feelings and desires to further marinate his meal . . .he's a monster, a demon, death, damnation . . ._

"I want him. I want him so badly I'd sell him the soul of my firstborn to feel him come beneath me just once."

 _He will fuck you, if you order him to, but you will never be anything more than a meal to him. He'll never desire anything from you, other than your soul._

"Perhaps, but fool that I am, I can't help but wonder," Ciel sneered, kicking off the bedclothes. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, planting his feet firmly on the floor. "It's long past time I found out."

 _Idiot! This madness will pass. It always does. Get back into bed._

The familiar self-command, which had always been so difficult to follow, would now be much too easy to obey. A new trepidation fell over him, a much weightier sense of dread than the one he'd borne this past half-year. Strangely enough, he had no qualms about marrying Lizzie, anymore. Lizzie had never been the problem . . .

Ciel knew exactly what he needed to do.


	2. Chapter 2

Despite overflowing with occupants, the townhouse was silent. Ciel padded downstairs with bare feet, his black silk robe hanging open over his nightclothes, his eye patch forgotten. He gave no thought of running into Agni or Soma and having to cover the mark of his damnation, so focused he was on finding Sebastian.

He expected he'd find his butler in the small servant's quarter at the end of the service hall behind the kitchen. The room was so tiny it barely contained its single bed and dresser, but Sebastian always refused the offer of roomier quarters upstairs, saying a butler should be nearer the front door where he might better hear the arrival of guests both expected and otherwise. Ciel, who knew Sebastian could be miles away and still answer the door mere moments after a guest (or otherwise) approached, never pushed the issue, but he often wondered why Sebastian insisted on relegating himself to a closet.

 _It's cramped, but it's secluded enough I needn't worry about anyone overhearing my humiliation,_ Ciel thought as he strode through the dark dining room. _Mey-Rin has ears like a bat, and Agni's senses are nearly as preternatural as . . ._

"Sebastian." Ciel stumbled to a halt the moment he walked into the brightly lit kitchen and squinted against the light at his butler who stood behind the butcher's block, paring an apple. "Why aren't you in bed?"

"The very same question I was about to ask you, Young Master," Sebastian looked up at him from beneath the fringe of his dark hair and set down the skinless apple. Snatching up another from the table, he peeled it with the knife while holding Ciel in his quizzical crimson gaze.

Frozen to the spot, Ciel's stare roved over Sebastian, drinking in broad shoulders covered by nothing more than a white shirt. The top three buttons were undone, revealing just the barest promise of firm pectorals. Sebastian's shirtsleeves were rolled up and strapped in place just above his elbows, baring his elegant, leanly muscled forearms, which flexed as he diced the peeled apples. His ungloved hands were an ivory blur, so fast he worked, but Ciel saw the mark of their covenant glow faintly upon the back of his left and realized the matching seal on his right iris felt heated, as if the bond between them was reacting to Ciel's heightening desire.

 _Why must he be so damned beautiful?_ Ciel lamented, his eyes meeting Sebastian's once more. _Even dressed down and disheveled, he's beautiful. If I ordered him to appear repulsive, would it be within his power to comply?_

The curiosity in Sebastian's eyes brightened to concern, and the knife stilled within a pile of finely chopped fruit. "Did I fail to hear you summon me, My Lord?" Unease darkened his expression, just a flash of a shadow before it was gone. "Was there something you needed?"

 _Go ahead. Tell him._

Swallowing hard against the lump of his heart pounding in his throat, Ciel shook his head and slid onto the stool beside the butcher's block, across from Sebastian. "What are you doing?"

Tension eased from Sebastian's brow, and he smiled. "I'm making apple fritters."

Ciel quirked an eyebrow. "Whatever for?"

"For Mey-Rin," Sebastian produced a mixing bowl from nowhere and swept his apple bits into its empty belly. "You and I will be gone to Paris for your honeymoon these next three weeks, and she becomes quite morose whenever we're away for more than a day or two. These are her favorite pastries. They'll help to cheer her up."

Ciel grinned. "You'd best be careful, Sebastian. Your former angel is showing."

"And you'd best watch your tongue, least I regurgitate your soul and feed it to a hellhound," Sebastian said pleasantly, producing three perfect brown eggs from the ether and cracking them against the side of the bowl.

"You're cheating," Ciel grumbled, propping his elbows on the butcher's block and resting his head in his hands. "Also, you're going to find me much too delicious to purge—although I _do_ have a good mind to poison you, now. Lazy Bastard."

"Although I much prefer 'bastard' to 'angel,' I'll have you know I expend more energy conjuring necessities than I would simply leaving to retrieve them. I'm only 'cheating' in order to avoid turning my attention away from my _most_ delectable young master." Sebastian smirked and nodded his head at the bowl, which then filled with flour, sugar and spices. A flick of his wrist produced a wooden spoon in his hand, and he stirred the mess into a sticky goop with inhuman speed. "Bastard I may well be, but _lazy_ I am not."

"How about _sensitive_ bastard, then?" Ciel sniggered. "I wish I'd known, Sebastian. I would have referred to you as 'lazy angel' from the first."

Eyes flashing fire, Sebastian shot Ciel a glare and slapped a spoonful of goop from the bowl onto a baking tray which materialized on the block. "You should be grateful it was a demon who responded to your dying call. Should have an angel appeared he would have done nothing but urge you to beg God's pardon as he watched you die, and then he would have escorted your damned soul to Hell, whether or not you'd repented your sins."

Ciel raised his head from his hands and sat up straight, stunned by Sebastian's obvious anger, yet intrigued. "So you're telling me a demon was my only hope of escaping Hell, even if I begged God's forgiveness for forsaking him after he'd forsaken me to Hell on Earth."

"I have tangled with angels from time to time. . . rescued a soul or three from their pious, arrogant clutches." Sebastian flicked his attention down to the full baking tray for a moment, and then looked back to Ciel, his black-nailed fingers shaping the globs of dough by feel alone. "Whoever their master is, he apparently has quite exacting standards. I've not once witnessed an angel escort a soul to Heaven, nor have I ever seen an angel give pause to the desperate pleas of the repentant damned."

"If what you say is true, then I can't imagine there are more than a handful of souls wandering around the vast emptiness of Heaven."

"I'm of the understanding Heaven is quite _peaceful,_ indeed." Sebastian smirked as he shaped the last few spoonfuls of dough into fritters. "And, I'd surmise, dreadfully dull."

"I suppose that's why you got yourself kicked out," Ciel chuckled. "Were you bored, Sebastian?"

"I don't know why you'd assume I was ever there." Sebastian said, his eyes flashing with hellfire before they flicked once more to the baking tray. He swiped his left palm through the air over the raw pastries, leaving them golden brown in its wake. The air filled with the scent of sweet, warm apples.

"Mmm. Those smell _heavenly,"_ Ciel hummed, reaching toward the tray.

Sebastian smacked the back of Ciel's hand and pulled the tray out of reach. "They're hotter than _Hell,_ Young Master. Besides, they're not for you." He gave Ciel a smug smile as he plucked a damp towel from the air and wiped his hands.

"Lazy angel," Ciel muttered, forcing his grin into a faux pout.

Sighing heavily, Sebastian returned the towel to nowhere and crossed his arms over his chest. "While your little game of 'irritate the _demon_ ' is entertaining, indeed, I find I'm much more curious as to why you're here, Young Master. Did something wake you?"

"I've not yet been asleep," Ciel admitted with a heavy sigh of his own.

"It may feel that way, but your anxiety is tricking you, My Lord," Sebastian relaxed his arms, irritation fading from his expression. "I was up to check on you not more than an hour ago, and you were sound asleep."

Teasing Sebastian had served to relax him, but now tension threaded through Ciel's muscles again. "You're losing your touch, Sebastian. I had no hope of fooling you, once upon a time."

"Nor do you have any such hope now," Sebastian said with a confident smirk. "You _were_ asleep, My Lord, I assure you."

Ciel breathed deeply, willing his heartbeat to remain calm as he straightened on the stool and looked steadily into Sebastian's eyes. "You sat on the edge of my bed and promised me you would keep Elizabeth and our future children safe . . . that I needn't fear for them." He touched his fingers to the center of his brow. "I still feel the ghost of your kiss."

Lowering his hand back to his lap, Ciel watched Sebastian's self-assured expression fall blank, watched those sensual lips part just barely and saw his eyes widen. He couldn't help but smile and wonder how long it had been since Sebastian was last rendered speechless.

"I fear you may be going soft in your old age, Sebastian," Ciel said, feeling years of carefully constructed walls crumble at long last. Repressed emotions surged hot through his blood, and as he allowed himself to welcome the rush his smile broadened. "It's obvious you believe my hesitance to marry Lizzie stems from a fear for her well-being. Your assessment of my character is much too generous. Have you forgotten how selfish I am?"

"I . . ." Sebastian pulled his hand quickly through his glossy black hair, his heating eyes searching Ciel's intently, and Ciel discovered he immensely enjoyed the sight of his perpetually confident butler looking so _flustered._ "Is this a new game we're playing now, Young Master? Because I simply refuse to believe your prioritization of Elizabeth's safety above all others is but a false imagining of my failing, _elderly_ mind."

"No more games, Sebastian. Not tonight," Ciel rose from the stool, affording himself the height to meet Sebastian's eyes levelly. "Of course you're not wrong. Lizzie's wellbeing is always my priority, but I've always trusted you would protect her. When considering the ramifications of this marriage, Lizzie's safety has never been an issue."

"You love her." Sebastian stated.

"Yes." Ciel nodded.

"You've coupled to your mutual enjoyment." Sebastian's eyes flared.

"Bedding her is pleasing enough, yes," Ciel agreed.

"Then forgive my ignorance, My Lord, but I fail to see a rational reason for your reluctance."

"Do you?" Ciel asked softly, moving around the butcher's block, his eyes locked with Sebastian's as he approached him with slow but sure steps. "No more games, tonight. Can you think of no reason at all?"

"No," Sebastian breathed. He turned to face Ciel, but took a step back, maintaining his distance. Clasping his hands below his waist, right over left, he concealed the mark of their covenant, but not before Ciel noticed it blazed with the same violet heat that flickered within Sebastian's eyes.

"I know that's not your answer," Ciel stepped closer, leaving a bare foot of space between them. "Considering your inability to lie."

"You believe yourself in love with another," Sebastian murmured. He stood his ground, his face carefully expressionless.

The rich, smooth timbre of his tone melted through Ciel, warming over his spine and coiling pleasurable tension within his groin. "Madly," he agreed.

"You're delirious, suffering a potent but transient lapse of sanity due to months of building anxiety," Sebastian said in a rush, raising the back of his hand to Ciel's brow as if to check for fever. "It's quite impossible, you see, because I never intended . . . you were but a broken, violated child, and I . . ."

"Fifteen," Ciel whispered as he drew Sebastian's hand away from his brow. He ran his thumb over the seal of their bond and shivered at the heat. "Whether you intended such or not, I've been suffering from this 'transient lapse of sanity' since I was fifteen, Sebastian. Surely you knew."

"I knew you cared for me to a small degree, beyond my usefulness," Sebastian shook his head minutely and slipped his hand out from beneath Ciel's. "It was surprising, although not entirely unexpected. But, no, Young Master, I wouldn't allow myself to consider . . ."

"Me either," Ciel brushed a lock of ebony hair from Sebastian's temple, reveling in the feel of silken strands slipping between his fingers. His heart raced as Sebastian leaned into his touch. "Do you have any idea how much I want you?"

" _No._ Ciel . . ." Sebastian captured Ciel's hand, drew it down between them and released it immediately, his expression hardening to firm resolve. "Tomorrow your life will change forever and the knowledge has put you out of sorts. You don't know what you want."

"I know I want you so badly I ache straight through to my soul," Ciel said, his voice gentle but unwavering. He stayed his hands at his sides, resolved not to touch Sebastian again, for he refused to allow the depth of his desire overshadow the strength of his pride. "I know I want to fully experience true passion at least once before I resign myself to a lifetime without it."

The resolve on Sebastian's face refused to crack, but Ciel saw a tremor roll over his butler, saw his fingers splay as if to grasp before they curled into fists at his sides, saw a hunger in Sebastian's eyes that had nothing to do with devouring his soul.

Posture tensing, Sebastian squared his shoulders. "If you're certain of what you want, then make it so, My Lord. I belong to you wholly. Body and soul, all that I am is yours, until the very end. You need only issue your order."

With a rueful smile, Ciel shook his head. "Not this time, Sebastian. That's not how this works. I've cursed myself a fool since the first, but even I am not idiot enough to believe true passion can be had by demanding its existence. Either you desire me as intensely as I desire you, or you don't. I want you to be my lover tonight, not my whore."

Silence thickened the air between them. Electricity snapped over Ciel's skin, raising the hair on the back of his neck as he watched Sebastian's eyes kaleidoscope with emotion.

"I won't . . ." Sebastian whispered. "I can't . . ."

Pain stabbed through Ciel—pain he saw mirrored in Sebastian's eyes, and although it hurt, it felt liberating. He nodded. "That's fine, Sebastian. Above all else, I value your honesty." Dismissing his resolve, he grasped Sebastian's face between his palms and pressed a kiss to the center of his brow. "Thank you. I simply couldn't get married without knowing one way or the other. I'll see you in the morning."

He released Sebastian and turned away, but before he took his first step strong hands closed around his wrists pulled him back around. Ciel gasped, finding his face a mere hair's breadth from his butler's.

"I won't be a suit you try on once and then discard," Sebastian said, resting his brow against Ciel's, his breath caressing warm over Ciel's lips as he encircled him in his arms. "I can't allow myself to have you and then simply give you to her. I will borrow you to her bed, because I must, but only with the understanding that you are _mine_ as wholly as I am yours. _Mine._ Now, Young Master, decide if you truly want to discover the intensity of my desire."

 _I've always been yours . . ._

Ciel pressed his body flush to Sebastian's and kissed him roughly, weaving his fingers through Sebastian's hair as he thrust his tongue past stunned, parted lips and sought the source of the caramel-coated timbre which had always so tantalized and tormented him.

It felt as if he'd gripped a livewire the instant Sebastian's tongue rolled over his. His heart stopped and then restarted with a hard thud.

 **The remainder of this chapter contains content only suitable for mature adults. This story-in-progress in its current entirety can be found on AO3 (archive of our own). On AO3, search: haldolhs**

 **Updates to this story will only be posted on AO3. Thank you for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

If you're reading this, you're probably one of the few fantastic folks who has favorited/followed this story, and you're just the person I want to talk to. Hi! Thank you so much for reading this story and for taking a moment to express your appreciation/interest. It means the world to me, and I can't begin to express how much I value your time and feedback.

I want to let you know that as a responsible adult, I feel I must comply with this site's terms of service. I'm in the process of removing all content that might be construed as "MA" from this site's versions of all of my stories, and I'll no longer be posting new stories which might possibly be deemed non-compliant to this site's TOS.

I also want to let you know that all of my stories can be found, right now and indefinitely, whole and in all their "MA" glory on AO3 (archive of our own). If you enjoy my work, it would really mean the world to me if you would visit me there. Once on AO3, type **haldolhs** into Search, and you'll find me no problem. All of my stories are open to the public, and you don't need an account to read, send kudos, or leave a review. One of the really nice things about AO3 is that it lets the author respond to all reviews (including guest reviews) publicly, and although it often takes me a little while, I always do.

You might be wondering why I've suddenly decided to comply with this site's TOS, which a great many fanfiction writers (myself included) have chosen to ignore as unduly restrictive and/or in favor of garnering readership from the vast popularity of this site. The reasoning for my decision is singular and simple: Fanfiction dot net places the liability for underage readership of mature content on the writer. AO3 places that liability on the _reader_. While I'm not so naïve as to believe readers who are not yet legal and consenting adults would never click the button that says they _are_ of consenting age to gain access to one of my stories on AO3, I do appreciate knowing that anyone reading one of my more "mature" stories is fully aware the story contains adult content and has made a conscientious decision to read such content. Such assurance is not afforded by Fanfiction dot net.

If you're reading this, thank you so much again for reading my work, and extra-special thanks if you've taken the time to leave me a comment or a review. I truly, truly hope you'll visit me and my stories on AO3! You can also visit me on tumblr: search user **haldolhs** My ask box is always open. I'd sincerely love to hear from you!

-haldolhs


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3 of this story is now available at AO3 (archive of our own). At AO3, search for haldolhs. Hope to see you there, and thanks for reading!


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